


Repo!Hats AU Chats

by CookiesAndKatanas, ghostofgatsby



Series: Repo!Hats [4]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Repo! The Genetic Opera, Drinking, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, M/M, Manipulation, Multi, Murder, Repo!Hats, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 12:51:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13365084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookiesAndKatanas/pseuds/CookiesAndKatanas, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: "I can give you something to ease the withdrawals, Smith." Sips informs him, taking a seat behind his desk. "You're one of the best Repo men I have now." He smiles and swirls his drink. "If you need something...you only need to ask."Smith shakily sits down across from him. "You'd- you'd do that for me?" Once again he isn't sure if he's earned his place, with all that Sipsco has given him."Course I would." Sips smirks darkly. "I take care of my own, Smith. It's the least I can do."Smith was never one for the aimless chatter in the locker room after a shift, but now he doesn't even startle like he's snapped out of a daze when he's addressed. He mumbles and seems half asleep during and after a shift. He used to be the one to drive them all back but soon Trott takes over that, and Smith doesn't even seem to care.Ross and Trott, kept awake at night by Smith's later restlessness, start wondering what exactly's going on behind the curtain at Sipsco. "Sips didn't get to where he is with a heart of gold..."





	1. Act 1: Repo Men

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since Nate started talking about a Repo!Hats AU on his tumblr, I've wanted to see it keep growing, so occasionally over Discord we've chatted about it. After a year, we finally got around to posting what we have. I'd advised you take a look at the rest of the series to get a gist of the story so far before you dive into this, so it makes more sense. Also heed the content warnings.  
> If we talk about anything more, we will update/add on any chapters here or in the series.
> 
> You can find Nate's tumblr here: cookiesandkatanas.tumblr.com  
> And my (Ghost's) blog here: ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com
> 
> cw: murder/death/knives/killing; abuse and manipulation; twisted morals; violence; drug use/addiction/drinking; arguing  
> If we need to tag anything else, let us know.

**Cookies_And_Katanas-01/30/2017**

on a repo related note

I was listening to night surgeon, the one where the Largos are goading Nathan, and I suddenly realized a thing

eventually, Smith's problem with repoing gets so bad that Sips has a meeting with him

and instead of urging out his ruthless side, cause he doesn't really have one (that tactic would work better with Trott), Sips just plays good cop

and it turns into this Stockholm Syndrome-esque thing

where Smith is like well he cares about me and so I have to do my best

 

**ghostofgatsby-01/30/2017**

ooooh, nice. I like it. maybe:

Sips pulls Smith aside after a routine report in his office after work.  
"Smiffy, a word."

talks about how he's seen Smith's not been himself. "The others say you're hesitant." pours himself and Smith a drink

Smith tries to come up with some sort of excuse, tripping over his words. "It's- just- rough sleep lately, and I-" scratching his arms, the memories creeping back, needing another hit of Z

"Oh, Smiffy..." Sips sighs and hands him a drink, rubbing his thumb across Smith's cheek, under his bloodshot eyes. "You're better than this, Smith. Remember the brilliant surgeon you once were?"

"I'm a Repo man now..."

"That's right. And a damn good one at that."

Sips hand moves away, and Smith wants it back. Even Ross and Trott laying beside him each night didn't sate his want of human touch. He needed something to replace the drug-addled protests of his victims. No one was close to him, and it ached.

"I can give you something to ease the withdrawals, Smith." Sips informs him, taking a seat behind his desk.

"They make-" Smith cuts off the question, because Sips knows? of course he knows. Trott worked for him before Smith did. And Sips knew most of everything that happened in this city.

"You weren't the only surgeon with high-marks under my guidance. But you were the best. And one of the best Repo men I have now." Sips smiles and swirls his drink. "If you need something...you only need to ask."

Smith shakily sits down across from him. "You'd- you'd do that for me?" Once again he isn't sure if he's earned his place, with all Sipsco gave him.

"Course I would." Sips smirks darkly. "I take care of my own, Smith. It's the least I can do."

Smith leaves Sips' office that night with a box of red and white pills. It doesn't replace Z or make the memories go away- he still uses- but it cuts the withdrawal and the paranoia he'd been getting lately while working.

The pills work a little _too_ well. Well enough that he works in a daze, mindlessly and efficiently doing his job with hardly much hesitation this time. He doesn't have to think, and Sips continues praising him for a job well done. Asks him how things are going and makes sure he's well-stocked with the Sipsco-mandated prescription.

Trott and Ross notice, of course. Trott isn't sure whether Smith has been using while working or is actually trying to cut back. He keeps up the deliveries anyway, and hasn't seen any change in that. They haven't caught Smith high out of his mind again. Yet.

One morning after work, Sips pulls Smith aside for a drink and a chat again. In the meantime, Trott searches Smith's apartment. He's never seen these red and white pills before...but he knows vaguely enough science, and has enough connections still, that he's going to try to find out. He takes one and leaves the rest where he found them.

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-01/31/2017**

what if Smith just gets progressively more withdrawn from Ross and Trott?

Smith was never one for the aimless chatter in the locker room after a shift, but now he doesn't even startle like he's snapped out of a daze when he's addressed

he mumbles and seems half asleep during and after a shift

he used to be the one to drive them all back but soon Trott takes over that, and Smith doesn't even seem to care

Ross confronts him about it one day while Trott is in the kitchen getting their dinner together

the work they do is so dangerous, why would he ever put himself at risk like that

and Smith, who gets defensive over everything, true or not, brushes it off

says it helps withdrawal while he's cutting back

Trott hears them from the kitchen, and knows that's a lie, but stays silent

if Smith thinks they're ganging up on him he'll just clam up more

later that night Smith is restless and can't sleep, gets out of bed and goes to the living room, turns the TV on low

Ross and Trott were kept awake by his tossing and turning, and when Trott sits up to follow him, Ross catches his hand and holds him back

They hear the click and swoosh of his gun, squeeze each other's hands, but stay in bed, and eventually fall asleep

In the living room, Smith lets his head loll back, enjoying the comforting way the air seems warmer and thicker around him

He only did half a vial, just enough to barely feel, just enough to help him to sleep

When the pills wear off in the early morning, the tenseness comes back

Smith knows it's probably just what he usually felt, but now the few hours he's not high or on the pills feels unbearable

He yawns, clumsily packs up his gun and nudges it under the couch

He promises himself he'll go back to bed as soon as this infomercial is over

 

**ghostofgatsby-01/31/2017**

oooo nice nice nice

maybe Ross asking Trott about how long this has been going on, how long Smith's been using, and if he could ever stop. if there's even a chance they could detox him from the stuff.

Trott shakes his head. they're at some crummy coffee shop, where no one will overhear them, Sipsco or otherwise. "It would probably kill him, to cut the supply off. You've seen what they're like- the victims we find high out of their mind on Z."

Trott doesn't even flinch commenting about it, but Ross shudders. The coffee in his hands cools faster than he drinks it, and his stomach can hardly stand the taste.

Ross had crept around the corner to the living room to get his tablet the next morning, and spent several minutes staring at Smith, unconscious on the couch. He never noticed, with all their Repo gear on, how thin Smith's skin looks, around his arms, his hands, how pronounced and stained the veins look. His fingernails have shading to them, and Ross knows enough about medicine to know that means Smith's not getting enough nutrients.

Trott hasn't heard anything back from his sources on whatever pill Smith's taking- the dealers and graverobbers have never seen it before, meaning it's not being synthesized off-market.

Meaning, there's only one place it could have come from. But the withdrawal medication didn't seem to be doing more harm than good- except it made Smith into a defacto zombie.

oooooh, and so, maybe after that, because Trott's been digging, right, Sips finds out. people trying to copy his withdrawal fix and break the monopoly? he assumes Smith got mixed up trying to get more Z from other dealers, and traded some. calls Smith into his office, calm about it on the surface, but guides Smith out onto the balcony of the high-rise office. the modern exterior is neo-gothic in design, with spikes along the edge.

Sips grabs Smith by the hair and shoves him, dangling him over the edge.

"You don't want to make me do this, Smith. So tell me- how'd the black market get wind of the withdrawal prescription I gave you?"

"What are you- talking about I- I didn't leak anything! Sips, please!"

Smith begs and pleads with him, fearful, groveling, "I'll do anything you want me to, I swear, I haven't done anything wrong-"

Sips throws him onto his knees, at his feet, and bends down at his level to meet his eyes. "Any more leaks like this, Smith..."

"None, I swear, I won't- I _didn't_ , Sips, I never-" clutching at his slacks

"From now on, Smiffy...you'll learn to get by on the minimum dose."

and he cuts Smith's supply in half.

 

I like that moment, too, of Ross taking Trott's hand and squeezing tightly, both of them saying nothing aloud about their concerns. I like the idea of Ross and Trott getting closer as Smith withdraws. just because Ross is getting quicker and more adept at repo-ing, and Smith so often automatically does his thing now that Ross and Trott stick closer on missions.

when Smith's supply of withdrawal pills gets halved, his repossessions get sloppier. Trott chews him out the first night he can see Smith's struggling, because he doesn't know what to do and Smith's being even more cagey

Smith snaps. viciously tears a victim's corpse apart and then claws at the wall they were leaning up against, screaming and snarling.  
Ross and Trott watch on, shocked into silence. this isn't what Z withdrawal looks like.

"We know about the pills, Smith." Ross voices, and Trott sends him a dirty look through his mask.

Smith's shoulders heave. he leans against the wall, dropping his ruined surgical implements. the metal clatters echoey down the alleyway.

and after that panic, I'm not sure what idea I like more: Smith being a live-wire of energy, ignoring Ross and Trott the rest of the night and being snippity

or, Smith goes eerily, eerily quiet. all the frustration seeps out of him, calming him almost like the withdrawal pills did. like the pills have adapted him to be just as ruthless as Sips wants him to be.

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-01/31/2017**

what if both

push him at all and the rage comes out

but if not provoked he'll just be quiet and calm, anger and frustration only aimed at corpses and soon-to-be corpses

Ross would push, because for a friend he always would

He would just take one step towards Smith, open, empty hand outstretched, like he's done his whole life to so many frightened, cornered animals, and Smith would snap at him

push off the wall, shove Ross back, and stalk away

He heads back to Sipsco, gets a new kit and finishes the nights work

He doesn't meet back up with Trott and Ross, and he only thinks about the task in front of him, the immorality of it dulled down and distant enough that he can think of other things

think about Sips telling him he was the best, think of Sips' thumb gently brushing his cheek, think of Sips saying he looks out for his own. He does think about the balcony, but the memory is not relevant to Alex Smith the Repo Man, so he tucks it away for later when he's just Smith

I can't make up my mind if Trott and Ross would wait for Smith or not

Neither of them want to leave him alone but they're not sure he wants them there, or, more to the point, if that's in his best interest

Maybe they convince themselves they're stifling him

constantly being around the same people must get tiring, especially when those people keep bringing up your drug problem

So they go back to Trott’s, and after they've fretted themselves tired over Smith, they crawl into bed together

Ross doesn't even put up the pretense of modesty and doesn't offer to take the couch

sleeping alone is too alien now

They both silently wonder about how Smith would be faring, in his big empty bed, but neither says it aloud, not wanting to make the other feel bad

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/01/2017**

Smith goes back to an empty apartment for the first time in a long time. The strange feeling and swirls of insecurity rise up. He's torn between being irrationally angry at them for leaving and angry at himself. Outside work, he's just Smith, and he can see where he's crossing lines. Snarling and yelling at work, shoving Ross hard enough this time that he toppled him over.

He can't fall asleep- the bed's too empty, his apartment's too empty, his head is too full. The thoughts tell him Trott and Ross are never coming back, that they would rather be with each other than deal with him.

Sleep is impossible, and he doesn't want to think. Smith knows he'll wake up in the middle of the night, if he even falls asleep. His skin itches and his bones hurt.  
He downs a withdrawal pill and does a full vial of Z.

It kicks in so quickly he feels his heart heave a painful shudder, his muscles go lax on the couch and his gun slips from his hand.

Smith doesn't sleep, though he doesn't realize he's still awake, too high to focus.

Trott and Ross find him like that the next night when they need to go into work. Neither of them slept very well, too worried about Smith.

They find him, still high, eyes glazed over and staring unseeing. Limbs twitching intermittently, breath shallow. Lips parted, slowly blinking in a daze. Like he's halfway fucking dead, like he's a repo victim on their hit list.

They can't exactly call in sick to work. But it doesn't feel right to leave him like this.

Trott says he'll work overtime tonight, take on Ross and Smith's contracts, and Ross can stay and watch Smith while he's gone.

Smith starts coming out of it halfway through the night, not enough to think coherently, but enough to vaguely have an idea of his surroundings. He can hear the buzz of the television, and there's something warm pressed close by.

Ross is sitting next to Smith on the couch, Smith's head at his side, gently combing his fingers through Smith's hair. He startles when Smith's limp, uncoordinated hand grazes his thigh. Smith rolls his head closer to him with a low groan, mouthing at his jean-covered hip. He nuzzles Ross' side and his t-shirt rides up to reveal a strip of skin, and Smith's lips brush over it in a lazy sort of kiss.

Ross pushes him shakily away, not wanting to think about taking advantage of Smith when he's out of it like this, about Smith's glazed-over eyes and vacant expression from between Ross' knees, of the feeling of his mouth in other places.

Smith stares back at him without really seeing as Ross tucks the blanket back around him from where he'd knocked it loose. He's slowly realizing that it's Ross who's sitting next to him, though he isn't sure how. It could all be a fever dream- and even in a fever dream, Ross doesn't want him. It only figures. Maybe Sips would...telling him he's the best and holding his head up as he fucks Smith's throat. If only Smith could prove his worth while he was high…

Smith passes out a few minutes later, the exhaustion overcoming him like a ton of bricks as the high dissipates. He's sleeping when Trott comes back later than usual from work, bringing food and discretely as possible slipping more vials of Z into the fridge.

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/03/2017**

I love the image of Trott sneaking in and putting Z away

Ross hears him come in and hears glass clinking in the fridge, willfully believes the unspoken lie when Trott brings over glasses for drinks and sets the takeout down.

Drugs and illegality is so hard for Ross to comprehend, it was always a distant thing until he found Smith that afternoon. (what do you think the timeline is for this, a couple months after that? three maybe?)

So Ross just tries to will it away, even with Smith sleeping like the dead next to him.

He's quiet as they eat, answering Trotts questions quick and to the point. doesn't mention Smith coming onto him (again)

He wonders if Trott thinks him spoiled, if Smith thinks him stupid or blind or both.

  
  
**ghostofgatsby-02/03/2017**

(hm...I'd say closer to three months than two)

Trott notices Ross' quiet, simplistic answers, but doesn't say anything at first. he knows all of this is out of Ross' depth. Trott's seen what Smith's like, and what other drug-addled people are like on Z.

It's when Smith twitches in his sleep that Trott notices Ross' hesitance, and the unsure, small distance between the two.

maybe Trott talks about what Smith was like when he first started dealing to him. isn't sure why, and doesn't look at him while he talks. but tells him about his life back then in a matter-of-fact way, and what he learned people on Z will do for that next high. back then, Smith always had cash, but he still could have propositioned Trott while high.

Ross listens to all this and doesn't comment for a while, watching crappy Sipsco infomercials on the tv. he tries not to judge Trott- they've all done questionable things, now- and he still doesn't have the answers. "So what are we supposed to do?" he asks softly, finally looking Trott in the eye, "because what we're doing now...isn't helping him. or _us_."

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/03/2017**

Trott can't even hold his gaze, it's too heavy.  He looks away and is quiet a moment. He'd never heard tell of anyone getting off of zydrate once they were in deep. Eventually they overdosed or spent all their money and went on their nightly lists.

And that's not even touching the mystery pills Smith got his hands on, no concrete explanation of what they did or what they were. They could be killing him for all they knew.

Trott runs a hand through his hair, sighing out deep. "I don't know."

He looks at Smith, face serene despite the hell his body looked like, too-thin skin stretched tight over muscle and bone. He didn't look awful as some of the people they saw on the job, but Trott knew what he was like when his habit had just started getting bad.

"what else can we do though? we can only help him through it, because look what he did with one night alone."

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/04/2017**

"The detox could very well kill him, if he would cut cold turkey..."

"He's been saying he's cutting back, but I'm not sure I believe him. What does withdrawal even look like, on this stuff? Could that be why he's acting so off? Or he's had bad batches?"

Trott shakes his head. He knows Smith isn't cutting back- the regular amount of Z drop-offs he made proved that wrong. And he always made sure to get the best for Smith…

"What about Sips?" Ross asks, gesturing towards the infomercials. "Do you think he'd know anything about this? He _does_ run a medical, pharmaceutical company."

Trott watches the tv, and his eyes slowly widen. "Hasn't Smith been seeing Sips after work a little more often after we've done our debriefs?"

Ross hums. "A little more than usual...yeah...why do you ask?"

Trott's insides pang with jealousy as he watches Sips and the genterns' smiling faces on the tv screen.

" _Those pills._ What if Smith had been getting them from Sips? _Fucking test products._ "

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/06/2017**

Ross looks so taken aback by the suggestion. "Would he? We're his employees, he wouldn't risk us. Especially Repomen!"

Trott shakes his head. "Sips didn't get to where he is with a heart of gold."

Ross opens his mouth, then closes it. Trott had a point. One only had to look at their job descriptions to prove that Sips was far from altruistic.

"So what do we do? We can't do anything, he's the most powerful man in the country, not to mention our boss."

hmmmm help me out here I've got two thoughts

1- Trott stands and as he's going to Smiths bedroom says, "I know where he keeps them." Ross would follow him if he didn't think it would wake Smith, but he hears a rattle, then the toilet flushing.

flash forward to smith waking up, them telling him about what they think, and smith flipping out on them. next day he would tell Sips he lost the pills, leave out Trott and Ross because despite it all he still cares for them. Sips would take it either as Smith faking for more pills or take him at his word. Either way Smith gets punished. Whether that's more threats or actual physical violence, I'm not sure.

alternatively, path 2- Trott breathes out, looks at Smith, and says, "We've got to tell him." When Smith wakes up, eats, and settles back down, Trott and Ross confront him about it. Smith flips, and the next day, shares those concerns with Sips, asks for reassurance. Sips knows a junkie doesn't question their drugs, and quickly figures it must be Trott or Ross or both. He reassures Smith, asks why he would ever put one of his best employees at risk like that, when he has hundreds of people who would gladly be part of a trial.

This would drive the wedge even further between Smith and the other two, makes him distrust everything they say now because it's just like Sips said, they don't understand what addiction is like, and he's only trying to get better.

I'm leaning towards two

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/06/2017**

hm... I think option 2  
  
"We're not exactly as expendable as genterns are, no..." Trott scrubs a hand across his face, thinking. "If the pills aren't test products, then it's something that's not being currently released to the market. Sips is the only person Smith could get them from, unless he knows one of Sipsco's organic chemists, and would have inside information about how 'safe' they were or what they're intended to do."

Trott stands up, goes to where Smith keeps his pills, and counts them up. He doesn't flush them down the drain, and comes back to Ross.

"He has x amount left. We'll keep a close eye on where he goes when he runs out." Trott sits down with a sigh, looking at Smith between them. "For now...we ask him. See what he says."  
  
After dinner, they confront him about it.

"Smith...where'd you get those pills?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've been unconscious for the better part of the past day and a half."

The comment throws him off, and he checks the time, shocked that what they're saying is true.

"It's none of your business."

"It is when your habit jeopardizes your health! Smith!" Trott catches his arm before Smith can get up and storm out.

Ross frowns. "Look, mate, we give a shit about you, alright? We want to help. Do you even know what you're taking? You haven't been yourself lately, and it could just be making you worse."

"It should help." Smith tugs his arm free. "They- it's like I don't need to worry about what I'm doing anymore, I don't have to obsess over- over the fucking morality of what I've _done_ , for once! You don't fucking understand-"

"We're trying to. We're trying, alright? But you have to help us understand, too. You can't just hide everything. That's not going to help."

Smith then asks Sips about it the next time he meets with him.

"What exactly are those pills you gave me supposed to do?"

Sips plays the concerned caregiver, the, "Why, are you having any untoward side effects? They _are_ helping, aren't they? With the withdrawal."

"Yeah, I just...I don't know."

"Smith, I want you to be the best you can be. I wouldn't have you take anything to limit your potential."  
  
Smith goes back to the work week, stays on the pills and Zydrate. He, Ross, and Trott get in an argument again, only Smith adds in his insecurity over Ross and Trott being closer together. Ross and Trott stay at Smith's apartment anyway, and Smith sleeps on the couch.  
  
so, now I'm wondering which direction we're going from here. Smith gets closer to Sips, and farther from Trott and Ross. Trott and Ross consider confronting Sips or talking with him. What are Sips' plans? He wouldn't necessarily want to lose his best repo men, which is why he's keeping Smith as he is. Maybe he'd shift less of a focus on Smith repo-ing, and more towards Smith, Trott, and Ross doing Sipsco adverts/propaganda for the Genetic Opera. I think you mentioned that once before.

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/06/2017**

haha I was just thinking about how off course this au got from the initial outline

yeah, I think maybe Sips would try to distract Trott and Ross

Like hey look at this cool other thing that I'm slamming you with work for

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/06/2017**

the plot wants what the plot wants hahah  
and that's partially my fault for sidetracking you onto more drug-addled!Smith problems  
but I like it. can still follow the initial outline, just...building it out.  
  
Sips gets the sense that Trott and Ross are becoming distrusting of him. corrals the three of them into a meeting and proposes they produce some brand new Sipsco adverts for the upcoming Genetic Opera. costumes, pyrotechnics, music, all the works. tells them if they do a good enough job, he'll pay them per production and have them MC the Opera itself. He changes around their schedules, too, so they each go out repo-ing alone a few nights a week, and only have one day off for all three of them. naturally, Trott and Ross take on most of this extra work, while Smith fucks around with ideas and generally wastes time, if he's not using the non-repo days to hole up in his apartment, high on Z.

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/06/2017**

nah man give me all the fucked up Smith shit

tbh your umy series just made me go, oh. Smith struggling and going through shit is really great.

it's why I made him the druggie in the first place

whoops

and I also don't mind if it goes into a completely other direction, god knows it's why I don't outline plots often, I can never stick to them

but yeah, in that meeting, he says he notices how close they all are, how important they all are to each other. he says their chemistry is what made him think of them as perfect for the job.

makes Trott and Ross think again on if they're really growing apart from Smith, they think about the good times when they're all together, physically and mentally

So the productions give them a steering point in their free time, less time to dwell on all the negatives and on Smith's issues

and Smith doesn't flirt with overdoses anymore, at least not when Trott or Ross are off work

He doesn't want another showdown

so just by virtue of "Well at least we're not finding him half comatose anymore" they think he's getting better

They still check up on him, but he's at least responsive and functioning if they do find him high

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/06/2017**

I love the fucked up Smith shit too  
which is why I do it so often hahah  
probably too much to poor ol Smith, but, whatever. everybody has that one character they put through hell again and again.  
I never have too much of an outline, just a goal. I like to let it unfold organically for the most part.  
  
for the productions, Sips gives them a warehouse to put all their gear, their set pieces, costumes, etc. Smith gives him a tour and shows him what they're working on periodically, and Sips praises him for a job well done. comments about how "you boys will look great in this." on certain costumes.  
  
Smith gets most of his feeling of accomplishment from Sips nowadays. he can feel himself pulling away from Trott and Ross, but the good days the three of them all spend together makes him want more time with them. they work so well together, they're so close. even if they drift apart, he doesn't want it gone completely.  
  
so, maybe as they get ready to film everything, they start getting closer again. spending late nights backstage, helping each other with setting up and practicing their lines. the costumes are very vaudeville meets cyberpunk. they've invited on numerous Sipsco genetic alterees to say a line or two for their adverts. the day they wrap on the last of the filming is the day they all hook up in the changing room, giddy, giggly and drunk on the excitement and a bottle of liquor. Smith kisses Trott first, because Trott hasn't removed his mascara, and he looks too good not to kiss. Ross tugs him towards him, and Smith stumbles, half uncertain of what Ross is going to do. But Ross kisses him next, and then leans over and kisses Trott, and Smith thinks they really should be filming _this_ , because this is something else. The three of them fall into a pile on the floor, on top of discarded costumes that have fallen off their hangers, sticky with alcohol and makeup residue.

For Smith, he can't stop gasping "fuck yes," feeling hands everywhere, too thrilled to have them even if it's a one time thing. He hasn't enjoyed himself in a night like this since...he can't remember.  
  
Trott and Ross exchange hungover, headache-addled looks across Smith the next morning. They hadn't expected this to happen...but neither of them is really complaining. Trott tries not to get attached. He works the next day, so he's the responsible one getting up off the floor and tracking down wherever their clothes got to. Ross stays on the floor with a sleeping Smith on his chest, idly carding his fingers through Smith's hair as he watches a naked Trott search the room for his pants. He was already too invested in the both of them. It had been only a matter of time.

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/06/2017**

I think Smith wakes up panicked

He kissed Trott first and Trott is gone

He's been pining for them both for so long, and he pushed when they were drunk, and Trott always leaves Ross to babysit him as he comes out of some drug induced stupor

Maybe Ross worries about how Smith only ever seems interested in him while he's inebriated. What if Smith is just a horny drunk, and everyone knows zydrate makes everything feel good.

Trott is just glad to be at work, where he can push it away until later, hopefully when Ross and Smith have already decided how to play this, so he can just follow their lead.

Trott can't help Smith like he needs, and Ross has always been too good for him, a constant rock even when things got shaky between them all.

Trott kind of just hopes it'll go away, hopes it'll never happen again. (If he tells himself this enough times, maybe he won't be disappointed when it inevitably falls apart)

But of course he gets back to Smith and Ross and they're more touchy feely than before (which is hard to do)

Smith falls asleep on his shoulder, and when Trott wakes him up so they can move to bed, Smith doesn't pull away quickly, he turns his face into his shoulder and tells him to make him

Trott turns to Ross for help, and Ross has the smallest, sweetest smile on his face, and just that alone makes Trott look away

It's too intimate, too fast, and Trott wonders how much they've been hiding if they're showing so much affection so quickly

it's scary

Trott learned young and learned hard that people die, they will always die, no matter how much you care

He doesn't want to lose them

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/12/2017**

Smith realizes that for a brief moment in time, the three of them were together, _properly together_ , and it's not just the sex he means when he thinks that. And then he woke up. And Trott's gone, and Ross isn't saying anything.

And the idea floating around his head is that they could keep quiet and never have it again-

Or he could reach for it.

He's always been a desperate man, and that desire manifests in different ways.

"Ross...where'd Trott go?" he starts by asking, too content to move from his place curled warm against Ross' side on the clothes-strewn floor.

"To work, I think." Ross' voice is rich and sleep-addled. His fingers idly shift through Smith's hair. "He'll be back later."

Smith sighs heavily. "We should- we should have- talked. The three of us."

"We'll talk when he gets back."

Smith frowns. They both know that's not true, that they won't have the time. That they'll go to bed like the always do, sleeping next to each other but not saying anything. Smith will dose himself with Zydrate come near-morning, and the next day everyone will bury themselves in work instead of looking things face to face. But that's what they do, isn't it? Their lives are built around masks.

"Ross, about...last night. Do you regret last night? Was that alright that we- that I..." Smith sits up and looks Ross in the eye.

Ross licks his lips and watches him carefully. "That we-you what?" he asks.

Smith gestures to the two of them and their nudity. "Well, the three of us fucked, mate, if that wasn't obvious. And we kissed. And did other things." He runs a hand through his hair worriedly. "Do you regret it?"

"No. Not if-" Ross blinks back at him. "Do you? Regret it?"

"No, of course not." Smith settles back down again. "I mean...it's you two. Why would I?"

Ross goes back to petting his hair, quiet for a long few moments. "Smith?"

"Hm."

"Could I kiss you again?" It's a scary question for Ross. But Smith sounds more clear-headed than he's been in a long time. Ross wonders why that is.

"Fuck. Yeah, Ross. Please."

They spend a little longer like that, kissing. "Trott-" Smith interrupts at some point. "Trott, too, in this. Included. This thing. Whatever. Right?"

Ross chuckles and pecks a kiss to his bitten mouth. "Yeah. Trott, too." He brushes hair out of Smith's eyes and smiles. "We'll figure it out."

 


	2. Interlude: Worldbuilding

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

so, fun fact: I live in pittsburgh, and there is this huge monopolistic health care company here called upmc

like, all the hospitals are upmcs, most urgent cares are, everywhere takes upmc health insurance

and if repo were ever to happen irl, it would absolutely start here

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

oooh. scary stuff.  
sounds about right, too, that repo would occur on the east coast first. 

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

as a jersey boy, I don't think Pittsburgh is east _coast_ but why east coast first 

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

hahah, well, I guess it's not the coast, but it's east to me, living in the midwest.  
east coast first because of all the corporations, I guess? lot of big business, wall street. 

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

too liberal on the west coast too

but see I think Pittsburgh would be perfect too because it's small town mentality in a city

Pittsburgh is a small country town that never realized it became a city along the way

as a result you don't get a lot of the social movement bases you see in Boston and nyc

they're there, for sure, but not enough to stop a virtual monopoly

question though, how would it spread from there?

central America is too spread out to justify a repo base in most areas

but pushing west would make more sense than coasts then pushing in

plus a lot of push back from california

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

hm...the musical starts out saying "industrialization has crippled the globe, industry failed as technology spread"  
I think it would move west and south, a slow spread of monopolization of health services as industry dies out and technology increases at either end of the US 

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

by that it might even start it LA

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

because if you're looking at more medical-based jobs (med tech, for instance) that's going to shift the kind of industry. I feel like at that point the population would divide further to the coasts in search of growth, making it easy for repo to infiltrate middle America and the south because of a search for development

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

solid footholds would be Chicago, Austin, Houston, Indianapolis

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

like the board game Pandemic, I think it's called, except it's not a virus, it's a company

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

spread out from there and watch the cities grow as people flock to the reinvigorated local economy

also, exactly like that

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

corporation hailed as a savior for improving the market

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

OK so banks have this legislation that they're held to, the community reinvestment act

basically, banks need to give back to the community that gives them money

I'm thinking shit like that

paid volunteer hours, buying and preserving parks, etc

not as a law, but they'd pose it as, well of course we’d give back to our communities

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

yeah, I think I've heard of that. and I know some businesses have grading scales, and B corporations have to give a certain amount of money back to local and global economies to hold the tax benefits

GeneCo probably starts out as specialty hospitals and organ transplant clinics for people down on their luck, turns into the repo company using bank money to fund the spread of their monopoly, and puts some of that back into community development to boost their ratings

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

rich people in power love geneco on so many levels. gentrification, for one.

and then geneco gets rid of the fiscally irresponsible,

no, not low income people, low income people are worth just as much as anyone else

but those tying up the economy in debts are ruining this country

turn the middle class against the lower

then as organ failure goes on the rise and middle class people find themselves in debt the upper class pat themselves on the back for being responsible and not fucking things up

class gap widens until you're one of three: geneco, geneco supplier, or non geneco

employment becomes the sole class division, but stays mostly in line with class divisions that we know now

the rich white men are the ones with the connections, so they get all the cushy geneco jobs

rich white women become genterns and get security at the cost of dignity

security, as long as you're not working in too close quarters with the largos

I imagine there's a sweet spot of up the ladder

too high and you're noticeable, and therefore culpable for any and all bad news

too low and you're disposable

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

"too high", how Smith got noticed by Sips

too good at his job, too precise

work that could be put to better use in the repo department of things

non geneco are the de facto middle class, who run everything else that isn't big business or medical industry

and geneco supplier is lower class, warehouse jobs, and, of course, the junkies and the ones with debts that end up getting repoed

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

well my thinking is, if you're not geneco essential, where's the money coming from? like you can be anything from a cook to a package handler, just depends who's eating your food and who your packages are going to

hmmmm, I think my system would set up an eventual communist thing though, eventually everyone would be geneco essential

 

**ghostofgatsby-02/13/2017**

1984-esque

I do like the dystopia of it

 

**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/13/2017**

yes, exactly

 

 

 


	3. Act 2, Part 1: Genetic Opera

**ghostofgatsby-02/20/2017**

Blind Mag Nano

former graverobber, well-known singer for Z parties turned GeneCo representative

sees right through Smith's nervous tics, and makes a comment to it when Ross is talking to her

so Ross asks her all the questions he's too afraid to ask Trott  


**Cookies_And_Katanas-02/20/2017**

goddammit why must you hurt me like this

Trott thinks ross is being too trusting of someone who spouts geneco propaganda too easily

Trott has a guarded but polite relationship with other geneco employees

he knows there are good people, but even good people would look out for themselves if push came to shove  


**ghostofgatsby-02/20/2017**

hahah. but it's such a great idea!  
  
Ross biting his lip and asking in a roundabout way about how one would actually get off of Z. Nano doubles over laughing, until she realizes he's serious. grimaces and leans up on her tiptoes to pat his shoulder. "Oh honey..."

"But there's got to be _something_ -"

She shushes him and shakes her head to deter him from saying anything more, keeping a close eye on the people who walk past them.

Nano knows Trott doesn't trust her, and why should he? there's no way the three of them are solely the Genetic Opera presenters, and she's seen both Smith and Trott lurking around Z parties before, years ago, separately. Nano knows more about what goes on then she lets on, but puts on the overly-cheerful and aloof face of Sipsco's Fantastic Sales Rep. gotta fake it until the gig's up. (which makes her more like Five personality wise, when she's spouting propaganda)  
  
Trott will play nice on the surface, but never dig deeply when his real face is shown at Sipsco mandated shows. you really can't trust anyone, because anyone else would sell themselves to pay a debt or be better off. even Smith, who could have been a good person, has his own demons. no one's innocent.

"I knew a guy who did it _once_ ," Nano remarks quickly and quietly later on, when they have a small window of privacy, "and it was after he put the other guy under and ran his blood through a detox machine."

"They _make_ those?"

" _Yes_ ," Nano hisses at him to be quieter, shuffling props around them to make it look like they're doing something productive (I'm assuming they're off stage or something). "He was ex Sipsco, had access to everything he needed."

"So did it work??" Ross watches Nano's face for any trace of a lie.

Nano shook her head, slamming a cabinet open and shut and collecting a few things into her arms. "It detoxed Z from his system. But he never woke up." She gives Ross a stern look. "Nobody knew what condition he would have been in, if he had. And after that, when the boss found out, none of them were seen again. So you didn't hear it from me."

Ross watches her stride off, so many questions spinning in his head. Knowing that he's forced to keep this to himself, because if he goes around asking the wrong sort of people, he'll end up on his own hit list.

**Author's Note:**

> reblog: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2018/01/14/repohats-au-chats-ghostofgatsby-cookiesandkatanas
> 
> playlist 1: https://open.spotify.com/user/ghostofgatsby/playlist/4fDpcFYGR3bDYoqQPDnvo5  
> tracklist: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2018/01/13/repohats-playlist/
> 
> playlist 2: https://open.spotify.com/user/ghostofgatsby/playlist/0tpoK93EWCU7TYn2czdXhN  
> tracklist: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2018/01/13/repohats-2-playlist


End file.
